Harry Potter and the Resurrection Stone
by Aegisaur-Shieldino
Summary: Harry raises himself, raises himself, and then must raise his raised self while attempting to keep his other raised self raised. Confused? So is he.
1. Prologue

I walk through the Forbidden Forest, towards my impending doom. "I am about to die," I murmur into the Snitch. It opens, showing a stone, no more than a pebble, really, but I immediately recognize it as the Resurrection Stone.

I turn it over three time in my hands. Sirius shows up, looking more alive in death than he ever did in life. Remus and Tonks both appear, hand in hand. I ask, "Does it hurt?" Sirius answers, "Quicker and easier than falling asleep."

I'm nearing the Whomping Willow, so I don't have much time. Fred shows up, but then he appears to push back at an imaginary wall, flickers, then fades away. I sigh in relief, as Sirius nods appreciatively, "He's a fighter, that one."

Mum pops up, repeating what she said in the graveyard. "Hold on for your father, Harry." I _Wingardium Leviosa _a twig over to the knot, and it freezes. Dad appears, and beams. "I think I speak for all of us when I say I'm so, so proud." Everyone there nods, smiling.

It's a oddly beautiful thing, and I wish I could live in this moment forever.

I realize the time has come to release my family, so I tell them, "See you in a couple minutes."

Right as I release the stone, I hear a toddler, and glimpse a miniature version of my dad, maybe a year old. I dismiss it as a figure of my imagination, because I was an only child. I guess I'll never know, wait, scratch that, I'll know soon enough. I go down into the tunnel, and get there in time to witness Lord Voldemort grilling Snape about why his wand didn't work. He eventually comes to the conclusion that since Snape defeated Dumbledore, HE owns the Elder Wand, and so he has to die. I throw off my cloak, right before Voldemort kills him. It shocks both of them. Voldemort looks gleefully at me: "I knew he'd come". No, not gleeful, ecstatic. Snape sprints for the cloak. Voldemort is so caught up in triumph that he doesn't notice. Snape whispers in my ear, "I'm so sorry." I see the wand come up and all I catch is the _Ava_...

And then the scene abruptly changes from a gloomy room to a blinding light. I shield my eyes, and then once I'm used to it, lower my hand. It's an entirely white King's Cross Station. There's Platform 9 ¾, there's the Hogwarts Express, there's... I raise my hand back over my eyes, calling over, "Headmaster, please, for the love of all that is good, _please_ put some clothes on." I hear the snap of his fingers and "Okay, I'm decent." I cautiously lower my hand, and, seeing a clothed Dumbledore, I ask him where this is. He explains that it's 'my party' and asks me where I think it is. "Dumbledore, is this in my head, or is it real?" He beams, and explains that even though it's in my head, it is indeed real. I take the train back to Hogwarts. Along the way, color returns to the world, along with smoke, wreckage, and the bodies. However, for just a second, when everything is bright and fresh, I can see life itself: temporary, but beautiful.


	2. Edmund and Alex

I had decided beforehand that I would leave the Hallows at Dumbledore's tomb, wearing the Cloak as to keep their location secret.

The Headmaster always did want to unite the Hallows, and now, even in Death, he will.

'Ignotus must have been a short fellow', I think to myself, hunching over so I don't expose myself.

Suddenly, the Stone slips from my grasp. I fumble around for a bit before grabbing it again.

Annoyed, I march towards the grave.

I go to open the memorial to leave the Stone there, when I hear the cry from the day of my death, louder this time, with substance, not shadow. I'd forgotten about that. I turn, see nothing, shrug, then return to my task.

As I go to place the Stone right on Dumbledore's chest, I hear a whine. I turn around again. As I turn, I nearly trip over a baby who looks EXACTLY like I did in that photo from Grimwauld Place from when I was a baby, and fumble the Stone again.

The gravity of the situation hits me as the pieces click. Only the holder of all three Deathly Hallows, one with the right intentions, can be Master of Death. If Cadmus could summon people with more substance than ghosts with only one Hallow, who's to say I can't bring the dead to life, even if it's me?

If it is indeed me, then the laws of magic are really, REALLY stretching 'dead', I mean, yeah, non-Horcruxed Harry died that fateful night. But still, there's no way I summoned myself back from the dead. I look around, trying to see who left the baby there, muttering bloody murder under my breath.

I clap softly, "Haha, very funny, now take him b-AHHHH!" I jump backwards, startled at the sudden appearance of someone, forgetting that Dumbledore's tomb is at my back, but Mystery Man catches me moments before I hit that hard, unforgiving stone. I take a better look at my savior, and he looks like my dad with my mom's... eyes.

"Take care of me for a little while, will I?"

He understands.

I walk away into the woods, fall on my knees, and start gibbering incoherently, and mandrakes have NOTHING on my anguished scream of what I think is: 'NOOOOOOOO! _**ANOTHER **__ME!?_ I could barely deal with myself, I'm going to have my hands full with me, and now there's another?'

I get up, and return.

Upon my arrival, he says he has a solution.

After his rather convoluted and drawn-out explanation of the problem and his way of fixing it, I'm speechless. "There's no way it took you twenty minutes to say, 'You don't want me here, I don't want to be here, so murder me.'"

He shrugs noncommittally: "What can I say, death changes a man".

Still pissed, I shoot back, "I know, he's my great times a thousand grandfather," right as he finishes, "And I'd know, because he's my ancestor." Our eyes widen.

Little Harry says something along the lines of 'Daddy please no kill Daddy' in Two-Year-Old.

I start laughing insanely at the sheer idiocy of my life. I just summoned myself back from the dead, and I'm going to have to raise myself as my own, and assist the OTHER me with suicide, but baby me wants both (all three?) of himself alive, and he thinks we are his parents.

I sober up immediately. "Death was that good?"

Harry 2, no, I'm calling him James, responds wistfully, "Yeah."

Jimmy, because that's what I'm calling Little Harry, just sits there looking all serious.

James asks, "So are we killing me or not?"

I wince. "Since when did you take your own mortality so lightly?"

Then, angrier, "Also, NO! You are NOT leaving me alone with me. Plus, since there are three of me, if one of us dies, do all of us die? For all we know, we now share a soul."

It's James's turn to wince. "Ahh... I see your point."

I nod. "So we aren't killing you."

James reluctantly agrees, "No, we aren't," Then mutters, "Sadly." I think I wasn't supposed to hear that last word, so I ignore it.

Jimmy again shows his spot-on analysis of the dilemma. "So, Daddy no kill Daddy?"

James smiles down at him, "Daddy is not killing Daddy."

I shudder in revulsion. "Nobody should have to tell themselves that they aren't committing suicide in familial terms."

James grins and repeats himself.

"James, when did you get so..."

His grin widens. "Happy-go-lucky? Insane? Immature? Wei... James?"

A shrug from me. "I'm Harry, so you can't be Harry."

"Huh... never thought of that, or thought I would be in a situation to even need to think about that." He appears thoughtful for a second, musing softly, "But I can't be James, your middle name's James."

I frown, "Oh yeah..."

"Hmmm... Meet Edmund Lily Potter."

"So, I'm assuming we're like long-lost twins?"

"Yeah that'd make sense, as I don't have the scar, but who'll little Harry be?"

"How about... Alex Ferrum Potter?"

It fits him so well that I can't think of any objections to his choice.

"Fits him like a glove."

Edmund smirks, "A very small glove."


End file.
